A Witch's Kiss
by UnmovingGreatLibrary
Summary: Homura is invited to tea by the Dress-up Witch.


Homura wakes up in total darkness, with her head pounding. Sitting up makes new aches cascade through her body. At this point, she's been wounded often enough to guess her injuries from the pain: There's a nasty gash on the back of her head. The dull aches along her side are probably nothing worse than bruises. A deep scrape up one arm makes moving it an exercise in self-torture. And judging by the swelling and the pain spiked through it, her left leg is broken.

What happened? She frantically tries to remember. What loop is she even on? It all bleeds together in her memories. This time... right. She'd been trying to keep everybody alive, but as usual, it was all falling apart. Kyoko had come back, she and Mami were fighting, and then... then what? Her head's too foggy to piece it all together into a coherent story.

The present is more important, anyway. She raises her hand and sets her soul gem glowing. The light it puts forth is weak and has a strange dark tint to it. That's not good. It will need cleaned soon, especially if she's going to heal herself, and she doesn't have a grief seed on hand. The light is still enough to illuminate her surroundings, though. For just a moment, she glimpses something that looks like trees in the distance, before a soft burst of flame from above floods the room with light.

She's in a bedroom. Not her own. She's laying in an impossibly soft bed, atop layers and layers of downy comforters. Above her, improbably, hangs a chandelier. There don't seem to be any trees. Again, she sits up, and the same jolts of pain course through her. She can see her leg now, and it's worse than she expected, a graze from a—bullet?—that seems to have shattered the bone on its way through.

None of this makes sense, but as surprises in Homura's life go, this one is fairly minor. Step one is to get herself back into good enough condition to travel. After that, she can find a way out of here, go home, finish healing up, and then worry about minor questions like how she was injured. A flick of her wrist summons her soul gem into her hand, and she lowers it to her leg. It glows with the dim violet light again, a numbing tingle runs through the flesh as it starts flowing together...

… and the door swings open. Homura jolts, startled, and instinctively reaches for a gun that isn't there. Standing in the doorway is Kyoko. Inexplicably enough, she's wearing a teal maid uniform. "Hey, you're up!" she says cheerily, already moving to the side of the bed.

"... yes, I am." Homura eyes Kyoko, trying to figure out what in the hell is going on here. The bedroom, she can easily explain as somebody finding her wounded on the street, but... Kyoko as a maid? That sort of tests her tolerance for the strange. "Where are we?"

"Huh, you didn't know? This is our new home!" Kyoko giggles and gestures grandly at the surroundings. "And our hostess would like to meet ya. Do you feel good enough to walk?"

Homura looks down at her leg again, inspecting it—not perfect, but much better after the healing—and buying herself some time to think. Okay, this situation just keeps getting weirder. Nothing like this has happened in a previous timeline. Surreptitiously, she gives her arm a quick burst of healing energy, getting it to the point that she can move it without too much pain again, and nods. "I do, yes."

"Cool. Follow me."

As soon as she's out the door, it becomes more apparent that this is definitely not just a house, but a mansion. They pass by a number of rooms, each of them lit by chandeliers and jumbled with furniture that looks like it belongs in a palace. The hallway stretches forward for what seems like forever, only converging to a point far out of sight. It leaves Homura dizzy with vertigo, feeling like she's falling forward into some distant singularity. Around her, dozens of identical archways pass over the pair almost hypnotically. How long has she been walking? Two minutes? An hour? A week? She tries to force herself to focus, but some combination of blood loss and the strange surroundings makes it difficult.

Before she knows it, a pair of doors swings open in front of the pair—did she even notice them approaching?—and they step forward into their destination. It's a cavernous room, and strangely empty. Around the edges are piled hundreds of presents, and in the otherwise-empty center is a large buffet table, draped with a violet tablecloth and piled high with food and even more presents. Golden chains hang from the checkered walls, and behind the table sits...

Homura's not actually sure at first. Her eyes strain to focus on the figure in the center of the room. They seem to slide off of it several times, only catching glimpses of something colorful from the very edges of her vision, until it suddenly resolves into Mami. Mami, wearing a bonnet and a delicate cyan sundress, sipping at a cup of tea. Mami, smiling and clapping her hands together in delight as she surveys Homura over the present-laden table. "Ahh! Our new friend is here. Welcome. Please, have a seat."

Homura is now convinced that nothing good can come of this, but before she can respond, Kyoko sweeps her forward and dumps her in a chair. The table seems far larger up close, a vast expanse separating her from Mami, and yet at the same time, it feels like the other girl is right in her face as she offers, "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank—" But Kyoko's already pouring it. Homura doesn't let this slow her down. "Tomoe-san, I'm wounded. Where are we?"

"Hmm?" Mami looks up from sipping her own tea, then blinks in exaggerated incredulity. "This is my house, of course! I live here with all of my friends. You wouldn't be here if you weren't my friend, so you should already know that!"

Kyoko slides the cup of tea in front of her, and Homura stares into its depths, struggling to make her brain pull together and concentrate. At this point, there are only so many explanations for this situation. Either she's so low on blood that she's hallucinating, or this is a—

"Ahh, you look sad," Mami exclaims, interrupting her thoughts. "Is something wrong? You should know that we're always happy here. Isn't that right?"

"Always happy!" Kyoko replies cheerfully.

"Always happy!" Madoka echoes. She's walking in the door, dressed in a similar maid outfit and carrying a plate of cookies. Silently, she sits them in the middle of the table and curtsies to Mami.

Seeing Madoka helps push Homura's thoughts forward. This can't be right. This can't be right! She looks at the cup of tea again, and...

her cup is filled with pastel blue goo.

It's tea.

It's goo.

It's tea.

It's—Homura's mind strains to process the strange dual nature of the cup's contents, and she suddenly realizes that the entire world around her is like that, with a hidden appearance that just barely eludes perception. From the corner of her eye, she sees that brightly-colored figure again, but when she focuses on it, she sees only Mami.

As subtly as she can, Homura reaches up to the side of her neck. She feels the telltale chill of a witch's kiss.

There can be no doubt now. She's in the middle of a witch's barrier, in her normal form, with a polluted soul gem, and wounded.

Her memories trickle back now: Mami, clutching her darkened soul gem and sobbing. The weight of a gun in her hands as she debated whether _this_ was the timeline when she'd shoot one of her friends in cold blood again. The sudden blast of a witch's barrier unfolding around her, and in the frantic battle that followed, having her leg shattered by an attack from one of the familiars. She'd fallen to the floor, certain that she was going to die, and then...

Well. Here she is.

It would be heartbreaking, if Homura hadn't seen this happen to her friends dozens of times before. As it is, only the slightest shudder of tension runs through her body before she steels her expression. Crying will come later, she knows. Almost reflexively, she starts laying out her priorities: Get Madoka to safety, and Kyoko if she can. Get out of here and come back prepared, or try for a quick win if she has to fight.

"Thank you for your hospitality," she says as casually as she can, while pushing the cup of what increasingly appears to be blue goo away from her. "But would you mind if I talked to Kaname-san in private?"

"We're all friends here," the Mami-witch reassures here cheerily. "You can say whatever you want right here."

"Of course." Beneath the table, Homura summons her soul gem into her palm, and spends a second mapping the room in her head. Her next moves all happen in a single burst of motion. She leaps from her seat while transforming, and the second that her shield appears, gives it a practiced jerk to stop the flow of time. Looks of blank surprise are frozen on the faces in front of her. As her hands close around Madoka's wrist, she allows the flow of time to resume. "Madoka! Follow me! We need to—"

Too late, Homura realizes that she didn't see a witch's kiss on the side of Madoka's neck. The wrist that she's holding feels limp and two-dimensional. She's holding a familiar.

With that realization, the witch's illusions crumble around her. The room looks even more garishly fake now, all wrong angles and bright colors, while Madoka and Kyoko are only sketchy, grinning caricatures of themselves. Mami is now utterly replaced by a witch, a cartoonish girl in an oversized bonnet, with a massive price tag hanging from her head. Already, she's warbling incoherent commands at her familiars and gesturing toward Homura.

Homura runs, and reaches for her shield again.

She's too slow.

From behind, golden ribbons lash out and wrap around her abdomen. Her momentum dies against them, knocking the wind out of her, and she falls to her knees with a grunt. Even more wrap around her wrists, binding them together. She struggles, but the restraints on her wrists are firm. She won't be able to summon a gun like this, let alone break free. The Madoka familiar steps toward her. Homura grits her teeth, bracing herself for death, but it only coaxes her to her feet and leads her back to her seat.

The ribbons slither around her now, securing her torso against the back of the seat and tying each wrist against one of the arms. As she struggles, the Kyoko familiar leans in, still beaming vacantly, and pushes the cup and cookies insistently toward her. The tea is now obviously unnatural, some sloshing blue substance, and the cookies are shaped like tiny magical girl silhouettes. Giggling, the Madoka familiar raises one to Homura's lips. She strains backward, but there's not exactly much room to retreat. The cookie pushes into her mouth, and though she gags and gives a muffled scream, it slides between her teeth and practically melts on her tongue.

It tastes like sawdu—no. It tastes... wonderful, actually. A sweet, comforting flavor. It seems to drain all the tension from her muscles. Her vision swims, and the illusions of normalcy rush back in. Across the table, the witch looks like Mami again. She's close. So very close. Mami reaches over, and her fingers brush across Homura's neck; she feels a sudden chill. Mami smiles at her. "Please be careful. You almost spilled your tea. I'm going to find us more friends soon, so please get comfortable. We'll have a wonderful party when they all arrive."

Homura strains to resist, but she can't bring herself to care. Every worry just slips from her mind before she even acknowledges it. Her hand is free now; without conscious thought, she picks up the cup of—tea—and takes a sip. It's a warm, delicate flavor. Some distant outpost of her mind screams that she needs to move, to run away before it's too late, but it's just so nice. So nice to sit here and have tea with her friends...

"Homura!"

Somebody's shouting. They sound so far away.

"Homura-chan!"

This second voice... it should sound important, shouldn't it? Homura can't remember. She takes another sip of tea. Her friend was right. It would be terrible to waste such nice tea.

The tip of a spear slams down on the table, breaking it in half, while somebody tackles her from her chair and starts tugging her away. Homura only continues reaching feebly toward the tea and cookies, now spilled on the floor. Such a waste.

The room is so noisy now. Homura can't even begin to understand it, can't understand anything except the need to have tea with her friends forever. She sits on the floor, like a robot with its cord unplugged, in the very noisy room. Somebody is yelling for her, but it's so far away.

With a shriek, the witch dies, and for the second time today, Homura is thrust back to consciousness without any time to adjust. She gasps and looks around wildly, but this time, her memories are much quicker to return: The barrier is fading, and the witch that had ensorcelled her is dead.

_Mami Tomoe_ is dead.

The surroundings waver. The last of the mansion fades into a dingy construction site. "Homura-chan!" Madoka tackles her around the waist, and Homura winces. "W-we were so worried! First Mami disappeared, and then you...!"

"I'm okay," Homura mumbles. She might be half-dazed and recovering from the pain, but she still notes that Madoka is wearing her normal clothes. She didn't contract over this. Good.

"What the heck was wrong with you, getting caught like that? You're gonna have to do better if we're gonna beat this Walpurgisnacht thing, you know." Kyoko smirks, trying to pass it off as a nonchalant joke, but Homura can feel the genuine concern behind her eyes. She tugs a grief seed out of her pocket of her shirt and offers it over. "I guess you didn't find Mami, did ya?"

Homura raises the seed to her soul gem and pauses. The design on the front is a five-petaled flower. She has to squeeze her eyes shut before she can start cleansing her soul gem, and her voice cracks when she replies, "N-no. I didn't."


End file.
